


amoureuse

by abiruth



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boat rides, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, Friendship, No Love Triangle, Romantic Fluff, Summer, Young Love, affectionate shirbert, farmer boy blythe, just shirbert being shirbert, lots of tender gazes, non Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abiruth/pseuds/abiruth
Summary: Anne has just come home from her first year at a French boarding school all the way in Paris. She stumbles upon a new burgeoning relationship with a one, Gilbert Blythe. This is a summer of new beginnings, first love, and exciting romance.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Shirbert - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	1. Home. What a Lovely Place to Be.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU that takes place when they're 16 (they're also the same age in this. idk it makes it easier). This doesn't really fit in with any plot points in any of the seasons so I'll be slowly explaining their past together throughout the chapters but it's pretty much the same Anne and Gilbert rivalry before this story takes place. I hope you enjoy <3

All Anne could see was vibrant green flashing by and the slight reflection of her own face staring back at her. But her mind wasn’t focused on what her eyes saw. She was thinking about where she was headed, home. What a wonderful word! Oh how she longed to be home. Over the last nine months she may have been homesick, but when she was mere hours away from home she felt like she couldn’t stand it any longer. Sitting here doing nothing was the opposite of satisfactory and Anne had the strong urge to march off this train and walk home herself. But that would take so much longer. No. She would sit still for the next 2 hours like she had done for the past 2 weeks. Her ship ride from France to Maine was long and anything but smooth, but she had made it. And the trip away from home last summer was undoubtedly worse, even if the promise of new and exciting adventures to explore were at the end of that voyage, the prospect of being home made her swell so deeply that she felt she could faint from joy. She could see Marilla and Matthew’s faces as she stepped through the large red front door. Matthew would be beaming and pinch her cheek. Marilla would give her an elegant smirk and embrace her in a tight hold. Anne’s eyes began to water at the thought. No. Anne thought. I must control my emotions. These strangers shouldn’t have to bear an adolescent's melodrama on this already extremely painful train ride. At least, it was painful for Anne. 

Though she loved home more than she loved anything, leaving school and France was hard. She adored her small dorm she shared with her good friend, Delia. It was cozy and warm. It had a small balcony that overlooked the beautifully starry streets of Paris. Her and Delia had planted flowers in pots all over, and decorated their humble dorm with as many things of nature as possible. Delia is what Anne would call a kindered spirit. Her ways mirrored Anne’s in such an attractive way, yet she was able to give Anne balance and would stabilize the emotional redhead in every good way Delia saw fit. They were the perfect match. 

As perfectly as Delia’s mind reflected Anne’s, Delia’s life was the absolute opposite. Delia lived in England with her large, wealthy family. She had 3 brothers and 4 sisters, all varying ages but somehow all naturally gifted at at least one instrument, and a multitude of cousins that lived with them on their estate. It was all very Pride and Prejudice to Anne, which incourse made the girl fall even more into a divine friendship with the raven haired heroine herself. It took many months for Delia to be upfront about her privileged life, it wasn’t something that she flaunted, ever. But Anne insisted she should know as much as Delia was willing to tell her. It was a foggy autumn evening when Delia told Anne the story of how her eldest sister, Maurice, had fallen in love with a travelling American soldier and how her parents woefully disapproved. So after weeks of heartbroken tears, and yelling matches in the drawing room (a drawing room in your own house! How romantic!) Maurice eloped with the army man and left with him for America in the middle of spring. “That sounds like something straight out of a novel!” Anne had cried. “On paper maybe,” Delia replied, “But the amount of times I had to sit through arguments at the dinner table was anything but romantic.” And the girls burst into giggles about love and courtship for the rest of the night. 

Anne’s thought reeled back to where she was sitting, and the once enchanted glimmer she had in her eyes at the memory of her dearly beloved, was gone and replaced with a slump in her shoulders and sigh out her lips. One more hour. 

The hour passed quickly when Anne brought out a piece of paper and started writing her first letter to Delia. They had sworn to write to each other everyday and to not forget about their dearest friend while a whole ocean apart. Before Anne had even finished writing half of what she wanted to say, the train started to slow. She frantically shoved everything back into her suitcase and sat stock still with her hands crossed over her lap as her nerves began to rise.  
Impossible scenarios of what ifs started to roll through her head like a horrible movie. Her heart rate sped to a pounding beat as the train shuttered to a full stop. She was almost paralyzed with anticipation until her consciousness crashed back into the present and she stood up with a jolt, one hand on her suitcase and the other brushing her long, fiery locks behind her shoulder.  
“Ok.” Anne told herself. “This is it. Just start walking.” She had to take another deep breath before she was able to move her feet, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. Almost immediately she was being ushered out of the train at an alarming rate and when her feet hit the brick of the train station, she strained her neck to find her family. The people behind her were still walking, in turn forcing her to keep walking, but she found sight of Marilla and Matthew soon enough. Her legs moved on their own accord and she flew haphazardly into Matthew’s arms.  
“Oh, goodness, Anne,” Matthew chuckled out at the girl's tight embrace.  
“Oh, Matthew, how dearly I’ve missed you!” Anne cried, peering up at Matthew’s kind smile and warm eyes. “You must remind me to tell you of a story of a gardener I know at the Maisons! He found a miracle elixir that grows produce at an alarming rate!” She said with wide eyes and a bright smile. Matthew gave a reassuring grin in response.

Anne turned her gaze to her right and saw Marilla . She ran into the lady’s arms without a second thought.  
“Anne, you are a sight for sore eyes.” Marilla admitted while grasping tightly to the young girl in her arms. “You’ve grown too much for me to bare.” She patted Anne’s head, as if to try and make the girl shrink a few inches. But it is no understatement to say that Anne had grown in the last nine months. She stood 3 inches taller, her hair had grown around the same amount, and her shoulders were set confidently on her back, causing her to stand straight up with poise (very much thanks to the 9 months in an all girls, roman catholic French boarding school). Her legs were less lanky, her chest was fuller, she looked more grown up. Her eyes however, were the same. The ever familiar ocean blue that sparkled when the sun hit them and turned an invisible frosty when you stared at them for too long. 

Marilla grabbed the young women's forearms and felt her eyes begin to water as she studied her beautiful Anne.  
“I’ve missed you quite sorely, Marilla .” Anne said, blinking back her own tears. They embraced once more quickly, and separated only to wipe away their tears.  
“Well, we best be off.” Marilla said firmly as she smoothed down her skirt, but her eyes were so filled with adoration Anne knew her feelings of jubilee were mutual.  
“You couldn’t stop me if you tried,” Anne declared as she picked up her suitcase and righted her shoulders. “Green Gables here I come!”.

An hour and many theatrical stories told by Anne later, they arrived home. Anne jumped off the buggy and landed on the rough dirt with a thump.

“Oh, Green Gables! The vision of you was burned in my mind so brightly that I thought my memory would suffice, but even my wonderous imagination couldn’t encapsulate all the beautifully overwhelming details you include!” Anne declared to the house with her arms spread wide. 

“Oh, come now, Anne. You best unpack and start laundry before lunch.” Marilla started with an affectionate brush of Anne’s shoulder as she walked past her and into the house.  
Anne looked back at Matthew as he was removing the buggy from the horse. Their eyes caught and Anne burst into laughter and followed Marilla quickly into their home. Some things never change.

Anne was determined to unpack her things efficiently and immediately, but when she saw the first thing on her pile of things in her suitcase, her progress was immediately stilted. It was a small canvas bag of seeds she had snagged from her school’s garden. She had swiped them secretly during one of her long mornings in the garden, desperate to remember the lovely scent of the flora that she had the privilege to enjoy everyday at the Maisons. 

She clutched the bag to her chest and tiptoed down the stairs. She had almost made it out the back door when Marilla called from the front room, “Anna! You’re free to take a snack if you’re hungry before lunch. I’ve left toast on the table for you.”  
“Oh. Thank you, Marilla ,” Anne called back with a sigh of relief. She wasn’t necessarily trying to hide her quest from Marilla. It’s just that Anne knew she should be unpacking her suitcase right now and that Marilla would not be impressed when Anne walked back in, late for lunch, with mud all over her hands, feet, and knees. 

Her nagging conscious aside, Anne darted off the porch steps and crossed over to her own mini garden. It was situated right in view of her bedroom window. Anne became lost in her work and started daydreaming about a flowery bride, covered in peonies, smelling sweetly of roses. She hardly even noticed when she stood up and started walking towards the line of trees that lined the perimeter of Green Gables. And she didn’t become fully aware of what she was doing until her foot stepped right into brisk, running water.  
“Oh!” Anne gasped. She picked her foot up and half heartedly shook it, trying to shake off the water. Why hadn’t she remembered this lovely little creek? It certainly hadn’t been here last summer. She would have discovered it, and a gorgeous creek so near to Green Gables would definitely not be something she would forget.  
She twisted her shoulders to stare at how far she’d walked. Maybe a mile. She couldn’t see the end of the trees, but this forest was familiar enough to her that she wasn’t afraid of being lost. When she turned back around, she noticed something even more surprising than coming aware with your foot in cold water. Just across the creek was a whole little, secluded hideout, of the looks of it. There was a hammock strung between two sturdy looking trees, a small fort of planks with blankets hung up acting as the front wall and door, and a small clearing that looked like the perfect place for a picnic. 

Anne began to smile. What a wonderful addition to this forest. Who could have made such a perfect oasis? Would they mind if I entered their hideout? I wonder how long this has been here? Surely it was built after I left? So much can change in such a short amount of time.  
All of these thoughts were darting around her head and she slowly approached the oasis in awe. She looked into the fort of planks to find it almost empty aside from a stack of books and a pencil. She then laid down in the middle of the clearing just outside the fort to gaze up at the sky. 

Her eyelids began to droop and she fought to stay awake. Who would have thought a 40 hour train ride would make a girl so tired? She looked over to the hammock that was looking awfully inviting right about now. She, in a sleepy stumble, walked over to the hammock and laid down, all responsible thought forgotten, and entered into a wonderful sleep.

She awoke much later with a yawn. She couldn’t remember where she was. Why am I outside? Why am I in a hammock? And she nearly jumped out of her skin when she looked to her right and saw a figure of a man standing only a few feet away from her.

“AH!” She screamed as she threw herself back in fear, but the hammock didn’t let go and instead trapped her, now upside down, as she struggled to free herself.

“Woah! Slow down there,” The man’s smooth voice called. He took a few steps toward her and gently righted the hammock and helped Anne to standing. 

“Thank you.” She puffed. Brushing back her hair that was sure to be wild, and smoothing her skirt down (a habit she’d gotten from Marilla ). The gentlemen only smiled in response. And then Anne recognized him.  
“Gilbert!” She exclaimed, resisting the urge to embrace him. Would he find it brash for me to hug him after us hardly being friends and me being gone for almost a year?  
“Anne.” He said back slowly, something glimmering in his eyes that she couldn’t place.  
“It’s so good to see you again.” He said after a moment of silence.  
“Oh, yes. Well, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you immediately.” She rushed out. “You look awfully different. I still can hardly believe it's you.” She said, embarrassment filling her face at her last words. It’s true he looked different then how she remembered him. Sure he was handsome before, but now he was downright dashing. He was almost a foot taller than her, his hair had grown longer but the messiness remained the same. His dark eyes had matured and behind them was such a strong gaze of intelligence that made Anne shudder where she stood. 

They remained their a few long moments, just staring at each other.  
“I’m probably a few shades darker than you remember me.” Gilbert said finally with a cough to clear his throat. “Harvest started early this year and I’ve been on the farm a lot.” He said with a matter of fact tone. This made Anne’s heart dim just slightly, where was the sly jokester and cheeky instigator she once knew. Her disappointment in his matter of fact statement must have  
shown on her face, because Gilbert quickly added, “Or maybe my stunning good looks have only improved in the last nine months.”

A joking smile spread across Anne’s face as she swatted his shoulder and brushed past him.  
“What is this place?” She asked, not responding to his remark.  
“Oh, right,” Gilbert said as though he had just remembered where they were. “Welcome to my office.” He presented his hands with a smile.  
“Your office?” Anne asked as she turned back around to face him. She breathed back a chuckle at the sight of Gilbert standing like an actor with a huge grin in front of his hammock.  
“Yeah. This is where I do all my groundbreaking study and contemplation.” He said seriously, but Anne could tell he was still playing around. He walked over to a rock that was on the bank of the creek. “This is my thinking rock.” He said, striking a pose as he sat down on the stone that oddly resembled The Thinker. Anne let herself laugh out loud.  
“And what kind of stuff do you think about?” She asked in polite interest, crossing her arms.  
“The woes of the world, the newest lesson at school, what I’d like to have for lunch, the purpose of humanity.” He responded, his cheeky smile returning. Anne shook her head softly at the boy.  
“Oh, that reminds me!” He continued as he got up from his perch. “I just so happened to bring lunch with me. Would you care to join?” He asked as he strutted over to a picnic basket that Anne hadn’t noticed sitting there before.  
“Oh, I’m not sure.” Anne said hesitantly. Marilla would be very cross with her if she didn’t return home for lunch. But with one pained look behind her towards Green Gables, she turned back to Gilbert and her resolve dissolved. His smile was inviting and charming. She could see his inner plea for her to stay deep in his eyes.  
“Oh, why not! I’m much obliged, Mr.Blythe.” She finally said with a curt bow of her head.  
His smile only widened and he quickly turned around to unpack the basket. She giggled at his hurried hands. He brought out a red and white plaid blanket and spread it on the ground. “Madam,” He said as he smoothed it down for her. She carefully sat down on it, remembering what she had learned at the Maisons about etiquette and how a lady should sit on the ground (If she ever!). Gilbert then presented a tray of biscuits and set it on the blanket beside her. Anne noticed they were freshly baked. And when he brought out the jam she gasped, “Blackberry jam! That is my very favorite!” She picked it up with reverence.  
“Mine too.” Gilbert nodded. They shared a silent smile and Gilbert returned back to unloading the basket. 

Half an hour later the two were laying side by side on their backs, staring up at the sky.  
“How did you enjoy the Maisons.” Gilbert asked quietly after a long, comfortable silence. Up until this point they had only exchanged small talk. And Anne would admit, the question ‘how she enjoyed school’ would also qualify as not the most profound of questions, but something in the way he said it made Anne turn her head to face him, only to be met with him already gazing at her. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, and his eyes were full of a seemingly rich and intoxicating flavour, but Anne couldn’t place it.  
“I loved it.” She breathed with a smile that spread to her eyes, still looking into the boys eyes. She then turned her head to stare back up at the clouds, a growing feeling that made her skin tingle was crawling up her stomach. “I have already learned quite a lot. More than I can remember to be honest.” She chanced a sideways shift of her eyes to see his reaction. His eyes looked the same but his smile was nothing but friendly.  
“What kind of subjects did you study?” He asked politely, now turning his own head to stare back up to the sky.  
“I think everything.” Anne laughed, and the boy laughed with her. “My main courses however, were English and Botany.”  
“How very Emily Dickinson of you.” Gilbert appreciated it. Anne chuckled.  
“I won’t lie and say the poet didn’t inspire my aspirations, but I very much wish to be my own person and those two courses just happened to be my favorites.”  
“I’d expect nothing less.” Gilbert responded, turning back to her again for a short moment. Anne smiled at his remark, but didn’t dare return his gaze.  
“What have you been studying?” She asked, trying to swallow whatever was now crawling up her throat.  
“Mainly medicine.” Gilbert said. Anne turned to him.  
“Really! How exceptional!” She exclaimed, sitting up. Gilbert laughed, closing his eyes.  
“You think so?” He asked with a grin. His elation only grew when he opened his eyes and saw Anne’s starry gaze. “I find the growing research of modern medicine one of my greatest fascinations.” He continued, now sitting up as well.  
“That is so brilliant.” She beamed at him. He shrunk ever so slightly under her gaze, but his smile only grew.  
“I’m glad you think so, Anne Shirley Cuthbert.” He said. The tingling threatened to overrun Anne when he said her name like that. And without a second, reasonable thought, Anne moved her hand to rest it on Gilbert’s, “I’ve missed you, Gilbert.” She said softly, her smile gone and her eyes suddenly earnest. Gilbert’s breath hitched when their hands connected, but he was able to say “I missed you too, Anne,” as he turned his hand over to hold hers. They sat there for quite a few long moments, looking into eachothers eyes, both seemingly unaware of how long they had said nothing, their heads too full of swarming thoughts.  
Anne swallowed and let go of Gilbert’s hand with a start. “I forgot to ask you about this creek.” She said tucking her hair behind her ears, Gilbert’s eyes followed the movement.  
“Oh, yeah. This wasn’t here last summer.” He said in response, peering over her shoulder to look at the running water. “During Autumn the lake that sits just past that tree line,” he gestured over towards his left, “overflowed and filled this little creek.” He recalled.  
“It’s very beautiful.” Anne remarked. Scared to fall into another silence that she enjoyed a little too much.  
“Yeah.” Gilbert responded, not looking at the creek. “I found some clay in it the other day. Would you like to look for some?” He offered, halfheartedly. It sounded like something small children would do. Not 16 year olds who had been apart for a whole school year.  
But he was pleasantly surprised when Anne turned back and said, “Absolutely!”.

lf you asked the teenagers how long they’d been playing in the murky mud of the creek between their houses, you’d be met with blank stares and confused eyebrows. Neither of them had even thought about the world outside their own little oasis until the cicadas started up. Anne snapped her head to look at the sun set, and dropped it consequently.  
“I’ve forgotten about my chores,” the girl moaned as she rubbed the heel of her hands over her eyes. Gilbert gave her a guilty look. “I’m quite sorry,” He said rinsing his muddy hands in the water. They had acquired quite the collection of colorful clay which was now showcased in figures of people, animals, and flowers. Anne had taken a lot of time telling Gilbert about all the different types of plants she had studied, and helped him make copies of them with the clay.

Anne walked over to their picnic blanket and started packing up the jam and plate.  
“Oh, let me do that.” Gilbert said quickly, rushing to join her near the hammock. “You could hurry off and get home before dark if you leave now.” He gave her a sad look, but he pushed down his own feeling of longing and replaced it with determined chivalry. Anne gave him a grateful look. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” She asked, though she knew Gilbert, he’d be mad if she stayed. He shook his head with a teasing smile. “Thank you so much for today, Gilbert. I really enjoyed it.” And with that she turned around and started her brisk walk back to Green Gables, only chancing a couple looks back at the boy, who was still gazing at her with a lopsided grin. 

When she broke free of the trees and saw sight of her beautiful Gable home, laughter erupted from her stomach and she couldn’t help but spin around in a joyous pirouette. How she loved being home!


	2. The Past Only Fuels The Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert partake in another "accidental" meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> So this AU has Mr.Blythe, Gilbert's father, alive and well. As much as I love Bash, Mary, and Delphine, I wanted this to be a little different from Anne With An E. But there are going to be similarities as you'll see in this chapter. I'm going to play with a scene from the 2017 TV series, but spin it around and make it a bit longer. I hope you enjoy!

“What a splendid morning for a walk!” Anne exclaimed, bouncing down the stairs with even more air than usual. Her jubilee still hadn’t deflated from the previous day's events.   
“You best do your chores before you head off again, Anne Shirley!” Marilla scolded her. The lady wasn’t extremely perturbed with Anne but she definitely didn’t like Anne being gone for hours a time each day after she had just gotten back. It made Marilla feel insignificant and useless. 

“Already done, miss,” Anne replied with a smile. Life seemed easy and her thoughts were blissful. Even the putrid stink of the chicken coup that she spent a good part of her morning in couldn’t dull Anne’s mood.   
“Well take some muffins with you,” Marilla eyed a plate of two blueberry muffins that was sitting on the table between them, “Lest you faint from hunger and wind up at the bottom of a lake.” Anne rolled her eyes in good nature.  
“Oh, Marilla. How do you think so lowly of me? If I do become fatigued with hunger, I would simply scavenge for berries and vegetables on my path.” Anne said confidently.  
“And that’s what I’m afraid of.” Marilla sighed. Her eyes creasing ever so slightly. Anne smelled the muffins.  
“How delightful. Thank you ever so kindly, Marilla.” She placed the muffins into a small basket.  
”I’ll be back soon!” Anne called as she walked out the front door. Marilla gave her one last smile and turned back to her work. 

When Anne reached her destination, she was extremely grateful she had woken up extra early this morning. She breathed out a sigh of awe at the wonder that was before her. The Lake of Shining Water’s waves were an effervescent, aqua blue. The reflection of surrounding flora danced gracefully over the water. Anne’s heart shook with love and she couldn’t help the overwhelming grin that spread across her face, all the way to her eyes that mirrored the cool blue of the lake. 

She walked onto the bridge and set her basket down. She leaned her elbows on the fence on one side and took a few deep breaths.   
“How magnificent is it that I should exist in such a time as this lake. That the beauty surrounding me could be from the same One who made me. I am alike this body of water as I am also only a vessel of my own visage. I couldn’t expect to be more than who I am, just as this lake can’t expect to be anything but a lake. However, this fact doesn’t dull the wonder that the Lake of Shining Waters is. It only adds to its splendor. The whole truth is that this lake was made to be a lake, and it does so wonderfully. How true are the wonders of the earth!” Anne monologued, her last line a shout and arms spread wide. She raised her face to the sun and allowed the golden rays to envelope her. After a moment of stillness, she quickly reached down and grabbed her book and pen out of her basket. She began to quickly write down what she had just spoken into the air with fervor, and soon lost herself in her writing. 

She didn’t put down her pen until she heard someone call her name from behind her.  
“Anne!” She turned around with a start. But when she saw who it was, she dropped her hand from her chest and let out a long chuckle.  
“Anne Shirley?” Gilbert said now closer to her. He was on a small boat in the middle of the lake. Anne picked up her basket and crossed to the other side of the bridge.  
“And who’s asking?” Anne teased.   
“Just a lowly admirer.” Gilbert responded with a smile, a joke playing in his eyes. Anne bit back her retort and leaned over the edge of the railing.   
“What brings you to this fine body of water on such a day as this?” Anne asked politely.   
“My early lunch break.” Gilbert replied. “You?”  
Anne lifted her basket.“Quite the same.”   
“Well, would you care to join me on my leisurely row?”

After Anne had clambered into the boat and almost knocked over Gilbert’s jam twice, they were off.   
“I brought muffins this time.” Anne said, sitting opposite Gilbert as he rowed.  
“I presume they are a gift from Marilla?” Gilbert asked.   
“You’d be correct. I find when I try to replicate Marilla’s blueberry muffins I unfortunately fail with such a disgrace.”  
“But I’ve had your baking, Anne. It’s nowhere near disgraceful.” Gilbert complimented in earnest, though he still had a delighted smile on his face.   
“I am flattered, but believe me when I tell you, muffins aren’t my speciality.” Anne admitted. One time when she’d tried to make the same muffin recipe she had gotten distracted while mixing the ingredients and they somehow exploded in the oven. She is still awfully embarrassed. Marilla banned her from the kitchen for a week.   
“Do you visit the lake often?” Anne asked, wanting to keep the friendly conversation going.   
“I do.” Gilbert replied. “Ever since you told me about it’s wonders last spring.” Anne felt a sudden remembrance.  
“I remember that day.” Anne said wistfully. “It was the eve before I left.”  
“Yes, it was.” Gilbert replied, a teasing grin on his face. He absentmindedly rubbed his forehead. Anne was confused for a moment but then quickly felt heat rush to her face as she recalled the events of their last meeting.   
“Oh. How could I forget!” She pressed her fingertips to her cheeks. “I am very sorry about that. I am glad to see you have fully recovered.” Anne said quickly, glancing at his forehead. Gilbert let out a laugh.   
“Yes, quite indeed. If I couldn’t survive a mere hit of a pencil I would be nothing of a man.” He said jovially.   
“I can say truthfully I regret my decision to chuck a pencil at your face.” Anne said.   
“Oh, but I deserved it.” Gilbert replied and he suddenly stopped rowing. “Is this a good place to stop, you think?” He asked. They were sitting quite far down the lake now.   
“No, I was acting with my head on fire. The respectable thing for me to have done was simply to say, “I disagree with you in matters of the heart” .” Anne continued without answering his question.   
“Surely you don’t disagree that marriage has to be decided from the perspective of logistics as well as the heart?” Gilbert prompted, leaning forward.   
“Perhaps, but love doesn’t wait for the world to be perfect. It comes any time it may please and waits for no one.” Anne responded, also leaning forward.   
“So if I proposed to you right now, you would say yes? Even though we are both in school and live half of the year thousands of miles apart?” Gilbert asked, his anger rising slightly.   
“That depends. Do you love me, Mr. Blythe?” Anne asked, her face close to his now, her anger mutual with his. Anne sensed him tense and un-tense. His mouth opened and closed again. Anne realized he was starting to lean his face toward hers ever so slightly. With a shock, she realized she was leaning in too. What are you doing, Anne? They’re faces were mere inches apart when Anne turned her head quickly and asked, “Would you like jam on your muffins, Gilbert?” She picked up the basket and set it between them. She looked up to see his confused expression, his brows doing that scrunchy things that made Anne want to close the gap between them and trace the wiggly line of his eyebrows. Stop thinking like that, Anne! But she couldn’t. And she continued to gaze directly at his eyes until she had the courage to speak up again. 

“How has everyone in Avonlea gotten along?” Anne asked after a long silence. Gilbert looked up from his hands that were fiddling with the hem of one of his pant legs.  
“Oh, quite well. My father is in good health and still just as talkative as you might remember him being.” Anne thought back to when she met the senior Mr. Blythe many years ago. 

“Hi, Mr. Blythe. I’m Anne. I am a classmate of Gilbert’s, and since he’s at home sick I’ve come to give him his school books.” Anne said quickly and all in one breath once Mr. Blythe had opened his front door.   
“Very thoughtful of you. We wouldn’t want him falling behind now would we?” Mr.Blythe said merrily as he took the books out of Anne’s hands. “Do come in and have some tea. I’d love to hear more about how Gilbert behaves at school. He talks so much about the studies and nothing about his peers! I thought he might have no friends until he mentioned a spritely young girl that moved into town.” He said walking towards the kitchen table. Anne stepped in hesitantly, shutting the door behind her.   
“Who’s at the door father?” A very congested sounding Gilbert called in from a room down the hall.   
“Anne Cuthbert.” Mr. Blythe called back. Anne heard a muffled “What!”, a ruffling of bed covers and a loud thud. But Mr. Blythe didn’t seem to notice. He continued,   
“Please sit down.” He told Anne, gesturing to a chair at the table. Anne gave a small smile and sat down. “It seems I already know so much about you from all of what Gil’s said but still it’s polite of me to ask, how has school been going? Gilbert has said you are his only competition nowadays.” Mr. Blythe started pouring tea into a teacup that he placed in front of Anne. 

“It’s been going fine.” Anne said smally. “It has been boring without Gilbert there.” But Anne quickly continued, “Everyone’s missed him. It’s not the same without him correcting the teacher all the time.” Mr. Blythe laughed at her last comment. Anne let herself laugh a little too and took a sip of her tea.  
“That’s Gilbert for ya.” He said affectionately, his mind obviously somewhere else. Gilbert then bursted in the room, out of breath and noticeably sick looking.   
“Anne.” He breathed out, his voice soft as well as his face. It held a tenderness that Anne had never seen before.  
“Anne has come to deliver your school books,” Mr. Blythe told Gilbert and gestured to the stack of books on the table. “Says she doesn’t want you falling behind.”  
“Actually, you said that, Mr.Blythe.” Anne interjected. Mr.Blythe gave a loud laugh and said, “Quick one, she is.” Smiling right at Gilbert. He gave him a small chuckle in response. 

“Is that all you came for?” Gilbert asked, studying Annes eyes with such fervor that she had to look away.   
“Yes, but I also wanted to wish you a swift recovery.” Anne said but then quickly added, “On behalf of everyone at school and all.” She shifted uncomfortably and stood up. “I have taken up too much of your time, I’ll take my leave.”  
“No, no. It is no burden at all. Please stay. You haven’t finished your tea.” Mr.Blythe pleaded, eyeing her full tea cup.  
Anne noticed striking similarities in the Blythe men. Especially their uncanny ability to persuade you with ease. Anne awkwardly smiled and sat down again.  
“There's a cup over there for you, Gil.” Mr.Blythe said absentmindedly, waving his hand behind him.   
“Now, Gilberts told me that you have yet to accept one of our signature apples.” Mr.Blythe said, looking at Anne quizzically.   
“Oh.” She responded simply, giving Gilbert a guilty look out of the corner of her eye.   
“Ours are the best in town. He surely must not have pitched it well enough. I’ll get you a basket before you leave. Marilla would probably be able to use them in her delicious cooking of hers” He offered genially.   
‘That would be lovely.” Anne breathed out. Obviously Gilbert hadn’t told his father of her embarrassing flair of temper the day he tried to give her an apple from his orchard.   
“One time, when he was real little, Gilbert tried to bake an apple pie. But he refused to use a recipe! I tried to reason with him but he was maybe, uh, 6 or 7 at the time. Far too headstrong. So he got some crushed up bread, mixed it with a single egg, threw some whole apples on there, and put it in the oven!” Mr. Blythe recounted like he was telling the most enthrally and entertaining story on the planet.   
Anne laughed loudly, picturing baby Gilbert was way too hilarious.   
Gilbert on the other hand was not enjoying himself. He sat down heavily on the side opposite Anne, his face very red.   
“Oh come on, Father. That was years ago.” He pleaded, scratching the back of his neck.   
“And one time he tried to wash the pigs himself and fell face first into a whole pool of mud! Was washing behind his ears for weeks trying to get it all off!” Mr.Blythe laughed. Anne smiled cheekily at Gilbert. “And that was quite a chore too, for he had a nasty habit of pretending his bath was, what was it?” He scratched his chin. “Oh! Yes, a pirate ship! He would pretend he was in the middle of the sea, fighting magical sea creatures. Got water everywhere, he did!”   
“Dad!” Gilbert said, now very openly embarrassed at his father’s stories.   
“And never wanted to put clothes on, that kid. Would run around the house, fully naked, and one time he-” Gilbert stopped him by interrupting with, “I am sure Anne doesn’t want to hear about these ridiculous stories, Dad.” He had both his hands pressed firmly on the table, staring fixedly at his father and trying hard to avoid Anne’s gaze.   
“She doesn’t seem to mind. Do you, Anne?'' Mr. Blythe asked innocently. Anne was flustered and could only give a small shrug in response, her eyes darting between both Blythes. “See.” Mr.Blythe gestured to Anne. “She loves my stories.” Gilbert shot him a look. “Oh, fine.” Mr.Blythe conceded. “I’ll talk about a different subject.” He looked around the room, as if he was trying to find something else to converse on. “How are Matthew and Marilla doing?” He said eventually. 

“They’re doing fine. Matthews been working hard on the farm and Marilla always seems to be doing something.” Anne said. She was disappointed in herself for talking so plainly. But Mr.Blythe was so amiable. She was scared to say something that would ruin his mood. 

“Those two always seem to carry on just fine. Never met a pair stronger than the Cuthberts. I can certainly sense the same quality in you, Anne.” Mr. Blythe said, pointing at the red head sitting at his kitchen table, looking only slightly overwhelmed. “From what Gilbert has said and how well I know the Cuthberts, I can tell that you are a force to be reckoned with, Anne with an e.” Anne’s smile was small, but her eyes became a little watery. 

“Thank you, Mr. Blythe. I really appreciate that.” Was all she managed to choke out. In a world where everyone would point out her flaws, or tell her everything that she wasn’t, it seemed bizarre and incredibly relieving to hear such a meaningful compliment come from someone she could already tell she admired very much. Mr. Blythe was certainly a kindred spirit. 

“Oh yes, I remember him.” Anne smiled affectionately. “I have always remembered to never trust you with baking an apple pie.” She teased.  
“Says the girl who can’t make muffins.” He teased back.  
“Ok, ok. We both have our baking flaws.” Anne said laughing, raising her hands in surrender.   
“Your father is one of my favorite people I’ve ever known.”  
“You remind me of him.” Gilbert said, looking at Anne with sincerity.   
“I do?” Anne asked, almost not believing a compliment so lovely.   
“Yeah, just as loquacious and headstrong.” He said with a lopsided grin. Anne guffawed and swatted his shoulder lightly.   
“I find those qualities in him quite endearing.” Anne crossed her arms defensively, but a smile was still playing on her lips. “So thank you for the compliment, Mr. Blythe.”   
“You’re welcome.” Gilbert said. Anne notice the once jeering smile melt into a look of such longing and Anne froze for a second. How does he always have this effect on you, Anne? When she finally unfroze many moments later, she shifted so suddenly that her hand hit her plate that was next to her on her seat. Gilbert doved to catch it before it shattered, and succeeded, but that consequently made his elbow accidently hit the jar of blackberry jam sitting beside him, and that fell to the floor of the small boat and spilled everywhere.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Anne cried, trying to mop up jam with her handkerchief. And out of nowhere, Gilbert started laughing. It was small at first, but when Anne took notice of it, she started laughing too, and soon they were both crying their eyes out together in the middle of the Lake of Shining Waters.   
“Now I’ll need some more jam.” Gilbert said finally after their laughing fit.   
“Oh yes, quite indeed.” Anne agreed, eyeing the empty jam jar that Gilbert was now holding. “But there’s still some left around the edges.” She noted.   
“I don’t think my knife would be able to get all that.” Gilbert said.   
“No, silly.” Anne grabbed the jar out of his hands. “Watch.” And she stuck her finger in and swiped up a large helping of blackberry jam and licked it right off her finger. “I know it's not very hygienic, but surely even the good doctor would let it slide just once.” Anne teased, handing the jar back to Gilbert.  
“Surely, if it's all in pursuit of jam.” Gilbert agreed and stuck his finger in the jar, copying her actions. “Mm.” He muttered. “I think it's better straight out of the jar, actually.” He commented.  
Anne let out a loud laugh, “Yes, indeed.”   
Gilbert glanced at his watch. “Oh, I better be going soon. My ‘lunch break’ is almost over.”  
“Oh, me too.” Anne said, wiping off her finger on her skirt. Gilbert began rowing back to solid ground.   
“If you’d like someone to go with you to Charlottetown for a new jar of jam, I’d be very happy to join you.” Anne offered after a few moments of silence. She was staring shyly at her feet, not daring to look at Gilbert’s face.   
“I’d love that.” Gilbert said immediately, a huge smile on his face. Anne looked up at him, smiling now too.  
“It’s the least I can do for causing your old one to spill everywhere.” Anne said quietly. Gilbert laughed easily. “And I need some new parchment anyway.” Gilbert shot her a quizzical look.   
“I promised my dear friend Delia, the one I told you about, the one from England, I’d write to her everyday but I’m almost out of paper in my book.” Anne explained picking up her notebook from inside the basket.   
“Are those all letters written in there?” Gilbert asked, noticing how full it was.   
“No, I’ve written some poems and stories.” Anne explained.   
“I’d love to read them.” Gilbert said. Anne looked at him shocked. “If you’d be okay with it.” He added, sensing how sensitive her book was.   
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind.” Anne said with a smile. Most people don’t care to read her poems, she talks so much already. But she could tell Gilbert was genuine in his curiosity. And that scared Anne. She was scared she’d get attached to this feeling of self significance and he’d change his mind once he got to know her too much. 

He was still gazing at her, but Anne’s head was too full of worries to notice. When they hit the shore, she got out of the boat quickly, throwing her book into a basket.   
“I’m planning on heading into town on Sunday.” Gilbert said before she could run off.  
“Oh.” Was all Anne could say.  
“So if your offer still stands-,” He started, “Of course!” Anne interjected quickly, “Good, well. I’ll see you Sunday, after church.” He said with an awkward smile.   
“I’ll see you.” Anne said with a quick nod and turned away to walk home. She had gotten halfway across the bridge when she turned back and yelled, “It was a nice lunch, Gil!”. He waved shyly and then stuck his hands in his pockets, watching her skip home.


	3. A Walk Around A Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne receives some very upsetting news in the mail.

Anne spent the night after her second consecutive lunch with Gilbert, outside in a tree. She wasn’t able to do this as often as she would have liked when she was in France, the curfew being very strict at the Maisons, so she would happily take advantage of the still Avonlea nights. _What great and deep insight can be found while sitting amongst nature when all is quiet._ She thought.

She spent many hours up her tree before she decided she must give in to her desire to write her letter to Delia. So much had happened since she’d gotten home but still when she put pen to paper, nothing seemed to come. On the train ride she was positively bursting with ideas and thoughts she wanted to share with her dear Delia, but now, when all was quiet and she was sitting alone in her bedroom in the dead of night, nothing seemed important enough. Well, besides her strange and confusing feelings towards a certain boy, but she hadn’t a clue where to start on that subject matter. 

_Okay, Anne, just analyze your thoughts. What’s most prevalent on your mind?_

_Gilbert._

_Besides him._

_Gil. Gilbert Blythe._ **_Gilbert._ **

“Ah!” She said a little too loudly. She froze and listened to any clue of someone waking up to her sudden noise.

Silence.

“Phew.” She exhaled in a whisper. “You’ve got to control yourself, Anne.”

She took a few deep breaths. _Ok. I’m controlled._

She picked up her pen, hands only slightly trembling with tiredness, and started her letter.

_Dearest Delia,_

_On my long journey home, I was bursting with all these sentiments that I was desperate to tell you, but now, when the exciting surprises of international travel are over and of the past, they don’t seem as important to relate. I am sure you have experienced all that I have and more during your extensive travels around the world. Nothing I could say would spark your_

_imagination as it did mine. So I will relieve you of the details of my journey and instead tell you that I made it in good health and with very little setbacks._

_So I will begin with saying how things have been going on at Green Gables the past two days while I’ve been home. Mathew and Marilla met me at the train station in wonderful spirits and have yet to complain about how often I wrote to them about tediece things while I was away. Instead they seemed to have missed me with as much passion as I missed them (Just like how you assured me they would! How do you, someone who has never even met them, know their character better than I?). Marilla didn’t even ask me to do chores when we arrived home in our buggy. She only asked me to unpack and clean up for lunch, which I will admit, I didn’t do. I got horribly distracted by the bag of seeds I brought with me from our garden (In retrospect, I should have placed them at the_ bottom _of my bag, rather than the top). But do take delight that I’ve planted them, and they’re doing quite well! I already see the beginnings of a bloom! Now for the matter which distracted me from lunch. This is one that might come with quite a shock, for I have said on numerous occasions that you are the only best friend for me, Delia Richardson, but I have come into a bemusing friendship with a former classmate of mine, whom before I only regarded as an acquaintance who I thought relatively highly of. The person I am speaking of is Gilbert Blythe._

_I do not remember if I mentioned him in all my ramblings of my life at Avonlea but he was quite the rival to me in terms of academics (And I will admit, I sometimes took it too far and into our personal lives) when we were young and only decided upon a truce the evening before I left for France. I won’t lie to you and tell you he is unamiable or anything of the sort but when I first moved to Avonlea he showed me a special attention which I thought at the time was meant as mockery, but now looking back, I think he was trying to be my friend, genuinely. How dumb are the introspective musings of a twelve year old. Anyway, let me tell you the story of our new friendship._

_I was wandering the forest near my house in a daze, not really aware of where I was going, when I stumbled upon a little area that seemed to be a hideout of sorts. It had a hammock strung up between two trees, a fort that was just tall enough for me to crouch in, and a clearing of soft grass that looked perfect for a picnic. Oh! And this was all on the shore of a beautiful little creek that was certainly not there last spring! I was wonderstruck! So grateful to whoever added to the splendor of the forest with their own interpretation of an oasis get-a-way. So, feeling suddenly fatigued from my train ride and accidentally long walk, I laid down in the hammock and fell asleep. Now I could not tell you how long I slept but it must have been hours, for the sun was considerably lower than when I had first laid down! And when I awoke I was almost spooked out of my skin when I saw a figure of a man just a few feet in front of me! But fear not! I soon realized it was none other than Gilbert Blythe!_

_Now this was just as shocking as finding a brand new creak so near my home, a hide out fort, and waking up to a silhouette of a man standing before me, but the sight of him stirred up such a foreign feeling in me. It was unlike any surprise I’d met yet._

_See, I traveled those woods many hours a day when I lived year-round at Green Gables, and never once did I come across Gilbert Blythe. Now I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised to see him, as he is my neighbor and the woods sit right between our respective houses, but in the moment I could hardly believe it and almost thought I was dreaming._

_But anyway, he invited me to stay and have lunch with him, even though it seemed very late in the afternoon to have lunch, and I obliged, not wanting to seem like I disliked being in his presence, and to be honest, I enjoyed being with him a lot. A whole lot more than I care to admit. There is something in the way he looks at me and the way my name sounds when he says it that I can not knock out of my mind! I’ve tried for hours, this very night, leading up to writing this letter to you! But alas, it seems my mind has a steady pulsing need to think about Gilbert Blythe. It’s actually quite annoying and now I understand why twelve year old me had such a reserve when it came to him. I digress, what I wanted to get across to you in this letter is that I am woefully at a loss for what to do with this newfound friendship with Gilbert Blythe. All I think about is him and all I want to talk about is him. I feel stuck in a certain feeling. But it’s not necessarily trapping or imprisoning like you’d think it would be. I feel almost free . If that’s the right word._

_I’m sorry, I know I sound quite incoherent. Maybe writing letters in the early hours of the morning is not the best idea for me._

_Please write back at your earliest leisure (But I might die if the wait is too long!),_

_All of my love plus some,_

_Anne Shirley Cuthbert_

She signed the finished letter with a deep sigh and looked up to see out her window. She noticed the sun rising and thought she best start getting ready for the day. She slowly and tiredly got dressed and took an unusually long amount of time sitting at her vanity and staring at her reflection. She was only knocked out of her daze when Marilla called from downstairs, “Come, Anne! Breakfast is almost ready!” 

After the plates and silverware were laid out and Anne was seated, Marilla placed the many trays of delicious food before them. 

“How lovely it all looks, Marilla.” Said Anne, trying to keep up with normal civilities even though her head was drooping slightly and her speech noticeably slow. 

“I expect you should be able to help me with breakfast now that you are settled back in at home, Anne?” Marilla asked, eyeing her while she buttered her toast. All Anne could respond with was a quiet, “Mhm,” and a slow nod. 

“Did something keep you awake last night, Anne?” Marilla asked.

“Hm,” Anne jerked her head up to look at Marilla, “Oh, no. Not at all. I’m simply still feeling the effects of travel, that’s all.” Anne smiled and tried to speak steadily. Marilla gave a grunt that showed she only half believed her daughter. 

“Do you happen to have plans for Sunday, Anne?” Marilla asked after some silence. Again Anne’s head jerked up but with more of a shock than being roused from a sleepy daze. 

“What, why would you ask?” She hurriedly asked back.

“Matthew and I were fixing to go down to the lake with you Sunday afternoon,” Anne’s shock melted into guilt, “since you have been gone for so long and all.” Marilla finished, with a look at Matthew who simply nodded once. 

“Oh. Oh,” Anne started, her eyes beginning to tear up, “That is ever so sweet and thoughtful. I unfortunately though, already have plans.” Anne bit her lip

“What kind of plans?” Marilla asked curiously, obviously trying to not show her disappointment.

“Well, I happened to run into Gilbert Blythe yesterday and accidently caused his blackberry jam to spill everywhere.” Anne explained trying to sound as innocent as possible. _Why do I sound so unbelievable? I have nothing to hide._

She gulped and then continued, “So I offered to go with him into Charlottetown to buy a new jar of blackberry jam, and I also am in need of a new notebook anyway. And Gilbert said he was scheduled to go in on Sunday, and I agreed without thinking to ask you two of any plans you had made.” She darted her eyes between the two as she said, “I am extremely sorry for this inconvenience and hope to still have the honor of going to the lake with you sometime soon?” Her eyes were full of desperation and obvious sorrow. 

“Oh, yes. Calm yourself child.” Marilla scolded.

“There’s no trouble in rescheduling,” Matthew said with a warm smile. 

“We can go Saturday instead. If that suits you,” Marilla looked at Matthew and he nodded, “If Anne doesn’t have any other dates planned.” Marilla gave Anne a knowing look; one that if anyone else was on the receiving end of they’d cower in fear, but Anne instead understood Marilla’s growing interest in her ‘date’ with Gilbert Blythe.

Anne had not thought of this Sunday get together as a _date_ before. Surely Gilbert didn’t either if Anne hadn’t made the connection herself yet, so she shouldn’t think of it as such at all. It was a friendly meeting between two friends for a matter of friendship. 

_Friends_. Anne reminded herself. 

“No, I can truthfully assure you I have _no_ dates planned. And this outing with Gilbert is hardly a date. I suggested it merely out of polite apology of spilling his jam and he accepted out of the same polite manners.” Anne defended herself, but her audience wasn’t convinced.

“Whatever you think, Anne.” Marilla said quietly as she bit into her eggs. Anne gave her a nervous glance and started eating her breakfast as well, though her mind was far from her porridge.

She began to analyze her previous meetings with Gilbert. Though accidental and introduced by neither party, if someone had described them to Anne, with herself out of the context, she might assume the couple courting. This thought perturbed Anne. _How could I think such things! Gilbert has never been anything more than a friend to me! I am almost taking advantage of him for even thinking that our strictly friendly meetings could be anything more than that! Friendly meetings._

But at the same time as she scolded herself for such thoughts, she silently longed for them to be reality. 

_Would I mind if Gilbert and I courted?_

_What! That is so far out of the question!_

_But he has looked quite handsome recently. Has he always had that splendid of a chin?_

_Oh, what am I saying! I admire Gilbert only for his intellect and amusing discourse. There needs to be far more than interesting conversation to spur up love and romantic affection!_

But even as she thought this, she also felt the other half of her consciousness, the one very familiar with emotion and hot-blooded feeling, had a completely different narrative. 

_What could stop me from entering into a courtship with Gilbert? If he were to have me._

She shuddered at the thought.

_There is nothing he does wrong, at least not anymore, he hasn’t called me carrots since I smashed my slate over his head. And even then, that was his only trespass, really. He has always accepted me for who I am, far more than anyone else I’ve encountered, besides maybe the Cuthberts. If I were to admire someone, who else would be better suited? I greatly enjoy conversing with Gilbert, being in his presence alone fills me with great delight, and the prospect of seeing him again makes me feel such unexplainable feelings that I hardly know what to think anymore. I couldn’t ask for a better man to court. And I wouldn’t want to court anyone else._

When she admitted that, albeit only in her mind, her person visibly started and she stood up abruptly at the kitchen table. 

“I am going to take a walk.” She choked out, a little louder than necessary, and briskly made her way to the door without a response from either of her parents. 

In the calming, fresh air, she found her solace. Though her mind was still weary and fatigued from her restless night, it was not pulsating so fast as it had been for the past 10 hours or so. And that was comfort enough. Her heart, however, was beating just as fast. Her newfound revelation of more than a platonic liking for Gil was heavy on her chest. She felt weighed down by this admission, because the responsible thing to do was to tell Gilbert of her feelings, but _she_ could hardly grapple with her feelings! How could she expect Gilbert to understand them, let alone think pointedly enough about them to return or deny the feeling! It would be unfair to Gilbert. _I mustn’t think of it again! There’s no reason to spoil a perfectly good friendship!._

  
  


Anne’s Friday went by fast, with her thoughts bouncing from one train to the next even late into the night yet again. 

_Why can’t I tell Gilbert about my feelings? I know I like him, that's for sure. What more would there be to explain? I like him, and if he doesn’t like me then that would be the end of it._

_Exactly. That would be_ **_the end_ ** _. You couldn’t be friends after that! Your conversations would no longer be intellectual and thought-provoking, they’d be filled with awkward glances and prolonged silences._

_NO! You must not tell Gilbert how you feel! Ever!._

And with that last bone chilling thought, she laid down her head on her pillow, and drifted off into a well needed sleep. 

  
  


Anne awoke Saturday morning with a newfound sense of peace. She didn’t have to tell Gilbert her feelings, and how serious were they anyway, if she can get over them so fast!. So she busied herself with getting ready for the lake. She put on her new peach colored, flowy sundress that she bought from a small boutique in Paris. Delia had tried incessantly to get her to stop wearing greys and dark greens when they weren’t in school, and even though Anne tried to convince her that the pink would only make her flaming red hair look more unsightly, Delia wouldn’t have it and made Anne buy the pink dress. Anne had to admit it was pretty. And now that her hair was more of a deep auburn than it was last summer, it didn’t look so bad. 

She touched the delicate white lace that went across the neckline and sighed. Now she wasn’t one for vanity or putting too much worth into worldly things, but the confidence that came with wearing such a beautiful dress! It was unmatched. 

_I wonder if Gilbert would like it?_ The thought pierced her mind and she had to physically shake her head to get rid of it.

_Doesn’t matter if Gilbert would like it. He has no opinion on the matter._

And with that she let out one short breath and headed downstairs. 

She was then in the middle of a quite somber scene. Marilla was sitting in the parlour with her head in her hand and Matthew was standing beside her, holding her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Anne asked, her pink dress suddenly feeling a bit too bright. She noticed a letter in Marilla’s hand, “What’s this?”. Marilla gave Matthew a distraught look and told Anne, 

“It’s a letter from the Maisons.”

“What? What did they say?” 

“They told us they can only give you a partial scholarship this year,” Marilla said, rubbing the back of her fingers across her mouth anxiously, “They can only cover tuition. We’d have to figure out how to pay for travel and new books and clothes.” 

Marilla righted herself and patted Matthew’s hand that was resting on her shoulder. She was determined to not be so vulnerable, especially in front of Anne.

“But at least they’ve covered tuition. That’s a huge start!” Anne said sitting down beside Marilla. “I am sure we will figure out how to get the money. The Cuthberts never fail, we’re too headstrong.” She smiled at Marilla. Marilla let out a gentle laugh, “You may be right there.” She held Anne’s chin affectionately. 

“Ok.” She said forcefully, “We best be getting ready to leave if we’re still to get to the lake for lunch. If you’re still up for it, Anne?” Marilla asked the girl.

“Nothing could stop me from a lovely day at the lake with the people I adore the most.” Anne beamed at them. 

And soon, they were off. 

When they got to the Lake Of Shining Waters, Anne was determined to not dwell on the depressing circumstance she was in. She knew they would figure it out, but there was a small part of her that thought, _“What if we don’t get the money? What if I can never go back to the Maisons. I’d never be able to see Delia again, I couldn’t get the education I always wanted”_. 

The thought was distressing and alarming. 

_I shouldn’t imagine it. I can only worry about what we should do about raising the money, not these presumptive what-ifs._

They set down their blanket and laid out their food right along the shore of the lake. 

“What magic a sunny day can do on the mind,” Anne breathed as she fell back against the grass, but her false happiness was tearing her up inside and she could tell the gnawing thoughts were eating away at her cheerful expression. They spent their lunch time in a good amount of civil conversation. They all tried their best to avoid the topic that was certainly plaguing all their thoughts, and instead talked about pleasant things, things that were easy to talk about. 

The lunch was going by quite well, considering all that was happening outside their beautiful picnic, and nothing shocking happened until none other than the Gilbert Blythe appeared, strolling along the bridge they were seated near, whistling and completely at his leisure. Anne was jealous of his carefree disposition and it must have shown on her face.

“Anne, are you alright?” Marilla asked, worried.

“What? Oh, yes.” Anne answered, quickly averting her gaze from the boy. She thought he might not notice them until he called out, “The Cuthberts!” quite jovially, “How are you all doing?” He asked them.

“Quite well, thank you Gilbert,” Marilla answered with a sweet smile, she was much better at hiding her heavy thoughts than Anne was, “And how are you doing? What brings you to the lake today?” 

“I’m doing splendid,” He said with a large smile, but when he caught sight of Anne’s solemn expression, he quieted his grin, “I often like to walk about the lake on such sunny days. Helps

clear the mind, I think.” He was talking mainly to Marilla but he couldn’t help chancing glances over at Anne. 

“Certainly,” was all Marilla could respond back.

“Would you mind if I borrowed Anne for a few minutes?” Gilbert asked Matthew and Marilla. Matthew shook his head and Marilla offered her approval. “Anne, would you mind going on a walk?” the boy then asked Anne.

“I could, if Matthew and Marilla really don’t mind me leaving?” Anne asked. She didn’t know what to think of Gilbert asking to walk with her and she was only slightly hoping that Matthew and Marilla said she couldn’t leave so that she wouldn’t have to pretend to be happier than she was already fighting to keep putting on. But they both assured her they didn’t mind and Gilbert helped gently her off the ground. 

“I’m perfectly capable of getting off the ground myself,” She told him quietly once they started walking.

“I know.” Gilbert said simply. She glanced at him and saw his pondering expression.

“Sorry,” She muttered. Gilbert shook his head to relieve her of having to apologize. 

“I asked you to walk with me because I notice you looked distant and perhaps forlorn?” Gilbert prompted, he was walking with his hands clasped behind his back, and he was awfully close to Anne. But for some reason, Anne didn’t make more space between them. 

She answered him, “I’ve just had upsetting news from the Maisons.” Anne didn’t know why she was so willing to just tell him everything. A year ago she would have pushed him away and called him nosy.

“What is it?” Gilbert asked, worry evident in his tone. He released the grip of his hands that were clasped behind his back and placed one softly on the back of Anne’s shoulder. The gesture was comforting to Anne and she let her guard slip.

“They’ve only been able to give me a partial scholarship. I have to cover my own travel expenses, and new books and clothes.” Tears were now flowing from her eyes for the first time that day. She continued, “I know I must look awfully stupid, worrying so pathetically about such a thing-” Gilbert interjected, “No. No, Anne. You aren’t stupid. Money is a hard blockade sometimes to the things we want to accomplish. You shouldn’t be ashamed.” Gilbert stopped walking, turned toward her and grabbed her hand, “I am here for you, Anne.” 

He was going to say more but was stopped by Anne enveloping him in a hug. She took him by quite the surprise but he was able to melt into the embrace very quickly. 

They were only embracing a few seconds when she released him and said quietly, “Thank you.” He smiled warmly at her and they turned to continue walking. 

The rest of their walk was spent in mostly silence. Anne would sometimes point out a flower that was growing or Gilbert would comment on a butterfly floating pass. The two companions didn’t realize how long they’d been walking until they approached Matthew and Marilla again and discovered they traveled the whole perimeter of the lake. With a jolt, Anne realized she was still holding Gilbert’s hand. She let go of it quickly and tried not to catch his eye. 

“Thank you for the walk, Gil. I really need it.” She shot him a shy smile and left him standing idly at the bridge. 

She walked quickly back to Matthew and Marilla and sat down. Against Anne’s hopes, the two siblings were not blind of the affection shared between the two children, but with a knowing look to one another, thought it best not to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter! There are a lot of Anne's thoughts written in this one so if anything is confusing or unclear please let me know! I really appreciate feedback :) Have a great day everyone<3


End file.
